


stay

by annalyia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gift Fic, M/M, Tags Are Hard, pre-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28879869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annalyia/pseuds/annalyia
Summary: lance notices something is bothering keith, and tries to find out just what that is.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101





	stay

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](https://steffanarts.tumblr.com/post/631981707039506432/couldnt-make-it-gayer-sorry) comic on tumblr, drawn by the lovely [steffanarts](https://steffanarts.tumblr.com/)

Humming quietly to himself, Lance wanders around the Castle of Lions. It’s late, or, at least, he _assumes_ it’s late because the lights in the halls are dim, and he doesn’t run into anyone else on his walk. Or, better said, he doesn’t run into anybody for the majority of his walk.

He rounds a corner into the longue and finds Keith staring intently at his hands, slowly turning them over to inspect every square inch of them. Lance frowns, unsettled by the expression Keith’s face, almost—almost like Keith doesn’t know what he’s looking at. 

Lance takes a deep breath before entering the room. “What you doing there, mullet?” he asks, trying to be casual.

Keith glances up at Lance before his eyes look elsewhere. “Sitting,” he replies, seemingly as casual as Lance.

“It’s, uh, pretty late isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Keith shrugs. “I could say the same for you, couldn’t I?”

Lance grins. “Yeah, I guess.” His grin fades with their conversation, unsaid words hanging in the silence between them. “You okay, Keith?” he asks, his voice softer and kinder than before.

Keith squirms under Lance’s attention. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Lance watches a slight flush creep its way up Keith’s neck, eventually reaching his face. What’s he so embarrassed about? “I—it’s late, Lance,” Keith says after a while. “We should get some sleep.” Keith stands, his movements rushed, awkward. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you later.” His words are soft, gentle compared to how he was before.

“Yeah, see you later,” Lance echoes. He watches Keith duck out of the doorway, left with more questions than when he arrived. 

The next day, Lance observes Keith carefully—but, like, not _obviously_ , of course. He’s pretty sure he’s being surreptitious enough that the other paladin has no idea. 

And, well, Keith _seems_ normal enough. 

He’s as—if not more—closed off than usual, but he still communicates and works with the team as necessary. More than once, however, Lance catches Keith staring at his hands again.

Confusion bubbles up in Lance—what happened with Keith? Lance knows that the fight with the druids was rough on everyone, himself included, but something about it has seemed to unnerve Keith more than the rest of them. There’s something there, just beneath the surface, that Lance is sure Keith is hiding.

He just has to figure out what.

Later in the day, during training, Lance watches as Keith and Pidge have a head-to-head spar. Keith is dangerous, deadly even, with his sword, but Pidge’s size and speed give her the ability to keep up, allowing her to parry his strikes and even get in some of her own. 

At one point, Pidge fakes a jab at Keith’s side—which he falls for, greatly surprising Lance—and then pushes her bayard against the flat of his blade and disarms him. Keith watches, utterly stunned, as his sword flies across the room and Pidge has her bayard at his chest.

“Looks like I win this time,” she says smugly.

“Yeah, looks like it,” Keith answers, but he’s not paying any attention to Pidge—or anyone else for that matter. He’s staring at his hands again, and, this time, Lance recognizes the expression on Keith’s face.

Doubt.

Like Keith does not trust his own hands anymore.

What could have caused that? 

The group breaks for dinner soon after, with praise from both Shiro and Allura about how well they did today, about how well they’re growing together as a team, as the Paladins of Voltron. As they walk down the winding halls to the dining room, Lance notices Keith falling to the back of the group as he finishes his conversation with Shiro. Lance stops Hunk in the middle of his sentence, telling his best friend that he’ll catch up with him again later. Hunk doesn’t miss Lance dropping back to be step in step with Keith.

Hunk figures he’ll hear about it later, so it doesn’t bother him.

“Can I help you?” Keith asks as Lance approaches.

“You okay?”

Keith stiffens a little at Lance’s question, his shoulders hunching in an attempt to hide his face. “I’m fine, Lance,” he says. “Same as yesterday.”

Lance purses his lips. “I don’t appreciate you lying to me, you know.”

Keith eyes him. “Why? It’s not like we’re best friends. You don’t get to know everything about me.”

Lance opens his mouth to protest, but finds that he has no words. “Well, I, yeah,” he says lamely. “Yeah, I guess.”

Keith squirms in the silence that hangs in the air between them, growing the further they fall behind their companions. “I…it’s just not a big deal, Lance,” he says finally, quietly, softly. “I’ll figure it out on my own.” And with that Keith turns down the hallway towards their rooms and leaves Lance by himself, the rest of their companions already at dinner. 

Lance debates kicking the wall.

“That could have gone better,” he grumbles to himself. He sighs heavily before straightening himself up. If Keith doesn’t consider Lance a friend, Lance figures he’s just going to have to change the stubborn boy’s mind.

And, over the next few weeks, Lance thinks he does a pretty good job. While Keith is still standoffish, Lance thinks he can tell that there’s no malice in Lance’s actions, and that he genuinely wants to help and get to know Keith better. Keith seems to open up a little more, and, while it’s not as much as Lance would like, he still considers it progress.

Lance takes a long drink from his water bottle as he watches Keith spar with Allura. 

“Can’t take your eyes off him, hm?”

Lance almost jumps out of his skin at Hunk’s comment. “Um—huh—what?”

“That’s what I thought,” Hunk says, chuckling. “You seem to be spending a lot of time with Keith recently, that’s all. I’m just saying what I’ve seen.”

“He said we weren’t friends, and I wanted to change that,” Lance tells Hunk, doing his best to not blush a bright red. 

“Yeah, _friends_ ,” Hunk muses nonchalantly. “Well, have fun with that, then.” Hunk turns towards Pidge, starting up a conversation about recent modifications to the Green lion, and leaves Lance to his thoughts.

_Friends_.

Lance quickly shoves down _any_ ideas his brain can come up with about what Hunk said.

They’re friends.

That’s it.

Friendship.

That’s all Lance wants. 

The clatter of Keith’s sword across the floor roughly yanks Lance from his thoughts. 

“Oh, Keith, I-I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine, Princess,” Keith interrupts, waving away her concerns. “I’m just not on top of my game today, don’t worry about it.”

“Keith, are you—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. Go ahead and get cleaned up. I’ll be fine.” Keith turns his back on Allura, slowly and methodically making his way over to his bayard.

Allura purses her lips. “All right,” she says before wiping the sweat from her brow and walking to the door. She stops when she reaches Lance and places a hand on his shoulder. “See if he’ll talk to you,” she murmurs. “He’s been closed off from even Shiro as of late, but I have the feeling he needs to talk to someone about something, even if I’m not quite sure what that something is.” Allura squeezes Lance’s shoulder before letting go. “Thank you.”

Lance nods, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. “S-sure thing, Princess.”

Allura smiles at him, and it is tired. And then she ducks through the door and is gone, leaving Lance alone with Keith.

Keith, who is still looming over his bayard, eyes trained on his hands.

Lance slowly pads over to Keith, stopping just a few feet short of the other boy. “Keith?” His voice is soft, unsure.

“What is it, Lance?” But there’s no bite, no usual harshness to Keith’s tone. Instead, he sounds tired, defeated. 

“You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

Keith is silent, but Lance does not push him for an answer. And then Keith mumbles something that Lance can’t hear. Before Lance can ask him to repeat, Keith goes, “I…yeah. I know.” Keith’s eyes meet Lance’s and there is an unspeakable _worry_ in Keith’s expression. Lance tentatively reaches out, and tries to take Keith’s hand in his own, but Keith pulls back. “Please don’t,” Keith whispers, voice close to breaking.

Lance brings his hand back to his side. “I won’t,” he says. “Not if you don’t want me to. But you can tell me what’s wrong, Keith. I mean it.”

Keith squirms under Lance’s attention. “I…maybe later.”

“Okay. Okay, Keith. Just…whenever you’re ready.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Thanks, Lance.” Keith picks his bayard off the floor and turns it over in his hands. “I’ll see you later.” Keith brushes past Lance—their shoulders touch—and hurries out the door. 

A couple days later, Lance finds himself on another one of his late night walks through the castle. He also, once again, finds Keith sitting in the longue. 

“Hey,” Lance says as he enters, sliding onto the couch next to Keith. 

“Mm.”

“You’re up late again,” Lance notes, side eyeing Keith.

“So are you.”

“Yeah, true, but I’m talking about you right now,” Lance says, laughing.

Lance watches as his laugh eases some of the tension out of Keith, the other boy’s shoulders relaxing as he leans back against the couch. “I’m not tired.”

“Is that all?”

Keith is quiet, and his eyes drift from Lance’s face to his own hands again. Keith lays his right hand in the palm of his left, turn it over slowly. 

“You keep doing that,” Lance says, indicating Keith’s methodical motions. “Looking at your hands.”

Keith snorts delicately. “Is it that obvious?”

Lance shrugs. “I’m not sure if it is to everyone, but I’ve noticed it a lot, especially during training.”

Keith sighs; it is a full body movement that almost causes him to melt into the couch. 

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Lance doesn’t want to push Keith too far, but he’s also, well, just _worried_ about the other boy.

The air is heavy with Keith’s silence between them. Lance is bursting at the seams with an apology for prying when Keith says, “yeah, I am.”

“Wait. Really?”

“Yes, Lance, but if you keep that up, I’m gonna change my mind,” Keith fusses. 

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” Lance says with a laugh. 

“It’s fine,” Keith says, sighing. “I…I need to talk about this anyway, I guess.” With one last, long look at his hands, Keith makes eye contact with Lance again. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Other than your sour attitude?”

Keith fixes Lance with a withering glare. “Yes, other than that. I’ve had a couple… _weird_ experiences that make me worry.”

“Like what?” Lance asks. He frowns, wondering just what could have happened to make Keith distrust himself this much. 

“Back when we were on the Balmera, I…I was able to open doors.”

“We can all open doors, Keith,” Lance says, confused.

“ _Galra_ doors, Lance,” Keith says. “Doors that were locked and only able to be opened by a galra.” Keith watches Lance’s eyes grow wide. “Exactly. Shiro can do the same, yeah, but his arm is made of galra tech, so that makes sense. My hands are…they’re _human_ , Lance.” Keith’s voice is quivering, and he’s turning his hands over and over and over again, inspecting every nook and cranny of them. “Or they’re supposed to be.” Another pause, as Keith regains his composure with a shaky breath. “And then, when we were fighting those druids, I got hit with some of that unpurified quintessence, remember?” Keith waits for Lance’s positive response to continue. “My skin, on my hands, it…it turned _purple_ , Lance. Purple. You know who else is purple?”

“The galra,” Lance whispers. 

“The galra,” Keith echoes. “How can I trust my hands— _myself_ —if I-I’m—”

“Keith, please,” Lance murmurs, placing a comforting hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Hey, look at me, buddy.” Keith keeps his eyes downcast. “Or not, that’s cool too. Point is, it doesn’t matter if you’re, _y’know_ , because you’re still Keith. You _know_ that everyone on this ship trusts you to have their back. You’re the Red Paladin with us for a reason.”

Keith shrugs off Lance’s hand. “What do you mean it doesn’t _matter_?” The bitterness, the anger is back in Keith’s voice. “You can say that because it’s not happening to _you_.”

“Whoa, Keith, I-I just meant that we wouldn’t—”

“You don’t have any _proof_ , Lance!” Keith yells as he stands before pacing around the room, making Lance worry that the others might hear them. “How do you know that Allura and Coran won’t hate me if they think I’m part _galra_ , part of the race that wiped out their entire planet? I need to know who I am, Lance.” Keith is almost pleading with him now.

“Keith, buddy, lower your voice—”

Keith is fuming by this point. “Lance you don’t know—”

“I don’t _need_ to know,” Lance says firmly. He stands to meet Keith on his level, issuing a silent challenge to the other boy’s fears. “I know _you_ , and I know that I trust you.”

“How can you trust me if I don’t even trust myself?” Keith’s expression is so, _so_ lost, and it breaks Lance’s heart. But, before Lance can say anything, Keith rushes out of the room.

Keith isn’t at breakfast the next morning.

Lance tries not to read into it. Maybe he’s just really tired, or getting a head start on training for the day?

But Keith doesn’t show up to their other activities, and Lance can’t seem to find him anywhere on the whole ship. So, after training, he decides to do a little digging of his own.

“Sometimes he just needs a break,” is Shiro’s explanation when Lance presses him about Keith’s absence. “Things can be overwhelming, and we’ve all had a lot of pressure on us recently. So, maybe he’s just taking the day off to himself.”

Lance scowls. “Thanks, I guess,” he says even though it’s not the answer he wants. He goes off in search of the other paladins, along with Allura and Coran to see if any of them have any ideas as to Keith’s whereabouts.

Allura and Coran are both dead ends; neither of them have seen Keith since training the day before. Allura apologizes for not being able to be more help, and wishes Lance well in his efforts. 

“Pidge?” Lance calls when he reaches the Green Lion’s chamber. “You there?”

“What’s up?” Pidge answers from her perch on top of Green’s head. “Oh, hey, Lance. How can I help?” She stays atop her lion, but Lance can tell that he has as much of her undivided attention as he can.

“Have you seen Keith today?” he asks.

Frowning, Pidge wracks her brain. “Um, not that I can think of? Last I saw him was at training yesterday with Allura. Why, is everything okay?”

Lance shrugs. “I…I don’t think so,” he says. “We kind of had an argument last night and I haven’t seen him since.”

“An argument? I didn’t think that those were uncommon for the two of you, except, well…” Pidge pauses, thinking. “I guess you have become closer friends in the past little while, haven’t you?” Lance nods. “What was the argument about?”

Lance panics. “Oh, um, well, y’know, it was about, um—”

“You don’t have to tell me about your lover’s squabbles if you don’t want to,” Pidge interrupts, a shit-eating grin on her face. “Really, it’s fine.”

“It wasn’t a lover’s squabble!” Lance protests, blushing profusely.

“Yeah, and your face isn’t as red as a tomato right now either,” Pidge replies drily, a keen glint in her eyes. 

“I do care about him,” Lance says quietly, oh so quietly. “But there’s no way he feels the same.”

“You don’t know that, Lance,” Pidge says, her voice softer and kinder than before. 

A corner of Lance’s mouth tugs up in a smile. “Yeah, I guess not,” he says. 

“Go on, then,” Pidge says, returning her attention to her lion. “Go find your lover boy.”

Lance says something about how he’s not a lover boy before thanking Pidge and heading back to his search of the Castle. 

He runs into Hunk after a little while, the Yellow Paladin looking over different parts of the engines. 

“Still trying to figure out how it works?” Lance asks as he approaches Hunk.

“I mean, I know how it works, Coran explained it to me,” Hunk explains. “I just think it’s cool.” He turns around from where he’s sitting on the floor, screen with different engine values in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Can I not just be checking on my best friend?”

Hunk gives Lance an exceptionally skeptical look. “You can, but, as your best friend, I can tell when something’s wrong, too.”

“That’s fair,” Lance replies with a shrug. “Have you seen Keith?”

Hunk shakes his head. “Can’t say that I have. Why?”

“No one has,” Lance says. “Not since yesterday.”

Hunk frowns. “That’s not good.”

“Yeah.”

Their conversation comes to a lull, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. “He might be at dinner?” Hunk eventually suggests. “If he hasn’t eaten all day, he’ll need something.”

Lance nods. “Yeah, that makes sense. I guess I can go look around the kitchen and dining room, see if he’s snuck any snacks.”

“Sounds good,” Hunk says. “Be sure to let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

“Okay.” Lance beams at his best friend before giving him a fist bump and heading towards the kitchen. 

_Lance_.

The Blue Paladin stops dead in his tracks. “Um, yes?”

_Have you checked Red, yet?_

The tension leaves Lance’s body quickly as he realizes that it’s Blue speaking to him. “No, not yet.”

It makes sense, he thinks. When things get overwhelming, Lance knows that he likes to spend time with Blue. There’s something inherently calming about a being that knows everything about you and yet will never judge.

So, Lance changes his course, heading away from the kitchen and towards the Red Lion hangar. He hears something once he gets closer, and decides to spy a little before making a move.

Peering around the door, Lance sees Keith. The Red Paladin is also dressed in his armor, even though he wasn’t at training that day. Lances watches as Keith puts on his helmet and turns his attention to the—

Are those bags? Lance’s brow furrows as he notices that Keith has a couple duffle bags on the floor, almost, almost like he’s—

Leaving?

No.

No, Keith can’t leave. 

Not yet. Not when Lance is so _close_ —

And then he’s around the corner and in Keith’s field of view before he knows what he’s doing.

Keith steps back. “ _Lance?_ ” Regaining his composure, Keith shakes his head, almost like he’s fighting off something. “Lance, no. No, please, not you—”

“What are you _doing_ , Keith?” Lance means to sound strong, sure, but his voice comes out broken, hurt.

Keith averts his eyes, expression pained as he looks at anything but Lance. “What I have to,” he whispers.

“What you have to? Keith, what do you mean? You don’t _have_ to go anywhere.”

“I do, though, Lance,” Keith says. He meets Lance’s gaze again and his eyes are _pleading_ with Lance to understand.

“No, you don’t,” Lance says again, firmer this time. “You don’t.”

Keith opens his mouth to respond, but Lance is already marching across the room towards him. “Lance, please,” he says again, taking another couple of steps back. “ _Please_.”

“ _No_.”

Lances watches as Keith turns away, and, unable to stop himself, reaches out and grabs Keith by the wrist, stopping the other boy completely in his tracks.

Keith turns to face Lance again, not ready for what might come. “Lance—”

Mind made up, Lance closes his eyes and presses his lips against Keith’s helmet, right where Keith’s mouth would be were the visor not between them. 

Keith’s eyes widen. 

Lance moves his hand to Keith’s, interlocking their fingers. 

And then he opens his eyes as he rests his forehead against Keith’s visor, peering up at the other boy. All of Keith’s emotions are written all over his face—pain, loss, confusion, _want_ , and so many others that Lance does not have names for. 

“Stay,” Lance whispers softly, oh so softly.

Keith grips Lance’s hand tightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lance echoes. 

A sad and tired smile forms on Keith’s mouth. It’s small, almost unnoticeable, but it’s there. 

After a moment, Keith uses his free hand to wiggle out of his helmet. “Let’s try that again.”

“Try what?” Lance asks, but he doesn’t have to wonder for long as Keith brings his lips to his, kissing Lance full on the mouth.

It’s soft, gentle, and yet it’s everything that Lance has ever wanted. Keith’s mouth is sweet and delicate, and Lance does not think he will ever be able to kiss it enough. 

“Oh, that,” Lance says after Keith lets him breathe again.

“Was that okay?” Keith asks against Lance’s lips. 

“More than okay,” Lance affirms, kissing Keith again, though this one is much shorter than the last. “We’re gonna be late for dinner, you know.”

“Mm,” Keith replies, mouth against Lance’s once more. “Dinner can wait.”

Lance pulls back. “Uh-huh, I’m sure it can, Mr. I Haven’t Eaten All Day.” One of Lance’s eyebrows is raised, and he has a cocky grin on his lips. “You need food.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You can kiss me later, mullet,” Lance teases. 

“You mean it?”

Lance tugs on their still entwined hands, leading Keith back to reality. “Of course, I do. Now, c’mon.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope y'all enjoyed this! as always, comments and kudos are my lifeblood and i cry each time i get one


End file.
